In Case of Zombies, Please Hold
by lucky seventh
Summary: They say Fate is a cruel mistress. That's actually not true at all; no, Fate is a just plain sadistic. There's no other explanation that someone like Lovino Vargas would end up fighting his way through a zombie apocalypse.


**_In Case of Zombies, Please Hold_**

_A Hetalia Fanfic based loosely on Zombieland (because I can)._

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**Chapter 1: Cardio**

If Lovino Vargas had been asked how he would survive a zombie apocalypse, he'd have cussed out the poor idiot who'd asked him such a seemingly-ridiculous question in the first place, all the while thinking about how thoroughly useless he'd be in such a situation, probably ending up one of the first to be devoured by the flesh-hungry bastards. Afterwards, he'd have forgotten the whole conversation in exchange for something much more pleasant, like tomatoes.

Unfortunately, Fate is a cruel mistress. Scratch that; Fate is a just plain sadistic. There was no other explanation for how someone like Lovino ended up being one of the last people on Earth during the world's greatest crisis (aside from the invention of potatoes).

Lovino sighed as he shot yet another zombie square in the forehead. Really, after this many, they weren't even _scary_ anymore. Although maybe it was just him; his brother, Feliciano, still screamed every time the damn things so much as looked in their direction. Granted, he had good reason to scream, but still, it was _annoying_.

"Feli, I can't shoot the bastard if you're screaming in my ear! It throws off my aim, dammit!" snapped Lovino, as he used the butt of his gun to whack the zombie in the head, for good measure. He always knew McDonald's was no good, but who knew it would somehow turn the majority of the world's population into dribbling cannibals? And that he, Lovino, a cowardly (yet good-looking) Italian, would end up having to blast his way through hordes of the damn things?

Speaking of cowardly, Feliciano was still whimpering from behind the counter he'd taken the brave opportunity to hide behind. He glanced worriedly around the deserted grocery store before scampering out to join his brother out in the open.

"D-did you find any pasta?" he asked, rubbing the tears from his eyes. Honestly, Lovino had no idea how he was still alive.

Lovino kicked the lifeless body that was slumped over a shopping cart. "Does it look like I found any pasta, idiot?"

Feliciano shook his head tearfully. He hadn't had pasta in such a long time...he'd nearly kill for it! Although it seemed Lovino was already doing just that...

"Come on, Feli, this place isn't getting any deader." Lovino nudged his brother with the butt of his gun, which was, unfortunately, just a bit bloody from its earlier encounter with the zombie's skull. This caused Feliciano to burst into tears, which resulted in yet another group of zombies ambling through the automatic doors at the front of the store. Rolling his eyes, Lovino dispatched these ones easily; an old lady with a walker and a disgustingly obese man were easy targets compared to what he'd previously faced. He then grabbed his sobbing brother, dragging him over the bodies and out the doors before anything else happened.

Once outside, he scanned the surrounding area, trying his best to ignore that _horrible_, _high-pitched sobbing_ coming from behind him, courtesy of Feliciano. Really, was it _that_ big a deal? Finally, unable to take it anymore, he turned around...

...only to be met with the wonderful sight of yet another zombified man staggering through the doorway. No wonder Feliciano had been carrying on like that.

"Dammit, you could've told me instead of whining!" Lovino yelled, shoving his whimpering brother out of the way and raising his rifle. He took aim and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Sudden panic gripped him as he pulled the trigger once, twice, three more times, and still the man..._thing_ was surging forward. It might have been a comical scene to anyone but the poor soon-to-be victims of the uncoordinated attacker. What an ideal time to have to reload.

"He's not dying!" shrieked Feliciano, pointing out the obvious.

Lovino fumbled to reload the damn thing, but glancing up, he realized he wouldn't make it in time. Swearing under his breath, he grabbed his brother by the arm and ran for it. No shame in running, not if that was all that stood between you and being devoured by some fat bastard who didn't look like he needed any more food, anyway.

You see, during the time he'd spent hiding in his home, and then, when the food was gone, running from place to place, Lovino had developed some kind of bizarre set of rules. He supposed it was just to make him feel more in control or some sort of psychological crap like that, but it had actually proved rather effective so far. And rule #1 was, not coincidentally, **Cardio**. After all, as Lovino knew well, running was the first step in the key to survival, and there was no way you could outrun anyone if you were out of shape. That slobbering idiot chasing them was proof enough of that.

"Get in the car, Feli!" Lovino had to yell to be heard over his brother's incessant wailing. He yanked on Feliciano's arm, pointing to draw his attention to the red convertible waiting at the far end of the deserted parking lot.

Biting his lip, Feliciano nodded, momentarily composing himself before dissolving into tears again as he glanced behind him.

Lovino sighed as he sprinted towards the car. Did he have to do everything? Upon reaching it, he decided that yes, he did, and shoved his brother into the back of the car, not even bothering to open the door as he jumped into the driver's seat himself. Fumbling for the keys to start the engine, he tossed his brother a pistol and ordered him to "just shoot the bastard!"

Feliciano, of course, couldn't even manage to steady his hands enough to get _one shot_. Honest to God, his brother was utterly hopeless.

"Start, dammit, start!" Lovino had managed to get the keys in, but the engine was stalling. He _might_ have shrieked a bit as their obese pursuer made contact with the side of his poor car, (a perfectly natural reaction!), but his fright was soon forgotten as the car finally, _finally_ started. Lovino slammed his foot on the gas, causing the car to shoot forward, soon leaving that poor mass of flesh behind.

He breathed a sigh of relief before shooting his brother a withering glance. This was going to be a long apocalypse.

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**A/N: The only reason I wrote this is because I love zombies, and I love doing things that make me feel like I'm being productive when I'm really not. Not to mention Romano would be a badass zombie-slayer or somesuch.**

**Truthfully, I was watching Zombieland and their little naming custom reminded me of something. I am terribly sorry.**

**I've also never finished a story that I've written, ever, so please threaten me if you care because I find I work best under threat of death and/or serious bodily harm. Preferably death.**

**Until next time.  
**


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